Harry Potter and the Second War
by The Amazing Snorkack
Summary: *OotP Spoiler* 16-year-old Harry Potter is struggling in a world where his life is no longer in his control. A letter from Sirius raises hope in Harry that somehow his godfather is alive... but it could be a deadly trap... R/R
1. Message From Beyond

**~*Harry Potter and the Second War*~**

So I just read Order of the Phoenix, and I felt like poking fun at it. Not something you can attack me for, you mock of an Inquisitorial Squad, since I wrote SPOILER clearly across the front of this and if you had any sense then you wouldn't have clicked on it... I know these chapters are kinda small but I don't care, I'm doing this mostly for my own amusement, so if you don't feel mildly amused, then just review the story and flame it for all its worth. I poured gasoline on it for the occasion...

REVISED: I noticed a few things that needed adding, soooooo here we are. A bit longer, you should see.

Funny Part of Book Five: "ARE YOU MAD, MAD-EYE?" –– _Tonks_, Order of the Phoenix  p 57__

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Chapter 1- Message From Beyond

Far away, above a small, uniform house in Little Whinging, the sun was starting to rise in the sky. And with the first rays of daylight, there was also the sound of pen against paper, an X crossing off another day on a wall calendar, greeting with the unmistakenable hoot of an owl.

The street was Privet Drive, and all its houses were apparently built in the same ugly square architectural design as the rest of the town. Nobody stirred in any but a certain person in Number Four, a boy who had just turned sixteen that day.

"_Sssh__, Hedwig!" hissed the skinny, bespectacled boy angrily. "Uncle Vernon's bound to get up any minute, and ––"_

He didn't manage to finish his sentence. Almost two dozen owls were swooping through the bedroom's open window and perching silently on every available space, packages and letters tied to their legs. The boy stared at them with wide green eyes, startled. He had practically forgotten his birthday in his despairing over staying at Privet Drive for most of the summer.

The boy's name was Harry Potter, a wizard-in-training, and an orphan adopted by his aunt, uncle, and cousin only for his protection. He was going into his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a renowned school of magic for over a thousand years.

"Bloody great of _them_ to finally write to me," Harry Potter mumbled, as he untied the packages from his best friends first. These were the first letters from them all summer, and he was rather ticked off because he hadn't been able to talk to anyone lately. He left them on his bed and carried on to relieve another owl of its burden, making sarcastic remarks the whole time. His baggy hand-me-down clothing fluttered loosely as a breeze blew in the window.

Once all the owls flew back, with hastily scrawled thank-yous tied to their legs, Harry surveyed the pile of presents he had received. Tentatively he picked up the one from Tonks and neatly pulled the wrapping paper off of it. A letter fell out.

          Dear Harry,

          Hope those Muggles don't ruin your holiday. I thought you 

     might like this, since you asked me about my "talent" last year.

     Don't get your hopes down about staying at the Muggle's place,

     because there may be a change of plans, if you catch my drift.

      Tonks

Harry looked up from the letter and figured out what the Metamorphmagus had sent him; _An Amateurs Guide to Stealth and Concealment by Gregory Sneak. It was a big, thick book full of ways to alter your appearance temporarily, and even included a page (bookmarked, no doubt by Tonks herself) on helpful magical techniques to disguise scars._

He munched on a bit of cake, which his resourceful friend Hermione had sent him, as he watched the owls depart. His aunt, uncle, and cousin hadn't heard a thing, which he was very grateful for. At least he had Mad-Eye looking out for him, or so he thought.

An enormous package from Hogwarts came by barn owl, including his booklist and O.W.L.s. A letter addressed to him, also from the package, read:

     Dear Mr. Potter,

          Enclosed are:

· Your personal O.W.L. results

· Your sixth-year booklist

· Your N.E.W.T. preparatory class schedule

· An individual letter each from your Head of House and the Headmaster of Hogwarts

     The Hogwarts staff congratulates you on passing your O.W.L.s and will see you shortly on the night of September 1st.

          Minerva McGonagall

          _Deputy Headmistress_

He sat down next to his pile of presents stacked on his bed and shuffled through his Hogwarts things. He fount his O.W.L.s and read his grades.

**O.W.L. Exam Results for: **_X___Harry__ Potter____

**Charms ~ **_Outstanding_

**Astronomy ~ **_Acceptable_

**Potions ~ **_Outstanding_

**Divination ~ **_Poor_

**Transfiguration ~ **_Outstanding_

**Herbology ~ **_Exceeds Expectations_

**Defense Against the Dark Arts ~ **_Outstanding_

**History of Magic ~ **_Dreadful_

**Care of Magical Creatures ~ **_Exceeds Expectations_

_~*~*~*~_

**Total O.W.L.s** **~ **_14_****

****

He gawked at the results. He had _fourteen O.W.L.s! He even passed all of the required classes to become an Auror with at least "Outstanding". He had N.E.W.T. preparatory classes in all six passed subjects, and the ones he didn't pass were, inexplicably, dropped. He couldn't wait to tell Sirius, but. . . . Sirius was gone._

The rest of the presents were also books, or food. As he crumpled up all the wrapping and hid it under his bed, he noticed a large, beady-eyed black owl waiting outside the window. He spotted a scroll tied to its leg, which made echoing mimics of the whispering noises from the veiled archway in the Department of Mysteries as it fluttered in the wind. He felt almost compelled to take the note.

The owl waited silently, its eyes boring holes through Harry. Nervously he unraveled it.

_     Harry _– _Bellatrix__ didn't kill me, as you may have suspected. I cannot reveal my location. _

_     If you survived the Death Eater ambush, please write back, but don't reveal anything _

_    because your letter could be intercepted. _

_         Padfoot_

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Well that's just one really really well-planned cliff hanger. I hope you like it, and don't forget, you can give me any kind of review, so long as you review it. You do know I'm a trained Legilimens, right? I can tell if you didn't review... muahahaha!

I love spoiling it for everyone  :D

REVISED: Yes, well, how about that. I added the O.W.L.s (surprise, surprise) and everything, but you'll see why the not-passed classes are dropped in a few chapters. Why? Because I feel like it.

SUPER DUPER REVISED: And now the O.W.L.s went from 6 to 14. Happy now?

ULTRA MEGA SUPER DUPER UNBELIEVABLE REVISED: Well it looks like Outstanding _is _a higher grade than Exceeds Expectations... oops. Well, now its fixed. The right classes have the right grades, ok? Gooooood.


	2. Digression from the Real

**~*Harry Potter and the Second War*~**

Well I piqued the interests of my four first, and positive, reviewers (thank you very much) and just had to make a new chapter... but of course this type of story has been done before... or something pretty close to it. For those whacked-out fluff maniacs, I would like to address my utterly poor ability at writing romance (never experienced it, I'm a loner) just so you know it's gonna be pretty pathetic in the future course of this fic. Anyway, we're past the introduction, here comes Chapter 2!

Funny Part of Book Five: "We saw Uranus up close! Get it, Harry? We saw Uranus –– ha ha ha ––" –– _Ron, Order of the Phoenix  p 795_

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Chapter 2- Digression from the Real

A shining glass orb lay smashed on the ground. 

The prophecy was lost to the sounds and lights of battle around it, the message said and the Seer's ghostly apparition gone forever. Anger rose in him. He did not hear the prophecy, and could not defeat his only true enemy without the secrets of those words. Pain greeted these raging thoughts.

The dream changed, became darker, and hurt more. Memories, each coming closer and closer to revealing Trelawney's first prediction, began to flash before his eyes. Voldemort was trying to reverse the dream. He was trying to enter Harry's mind, looking for the secret of the prophecy-

"NO!"

He awoke in a cold sweat, looking around the dark room for where he was sure that Voldemort should be standing. Gasping, he checked his clock. It was 3 o'clock in the morning and dead silent. His birthday had come and gone, and, of course, he had written back to Sirius. As he was writing the very vague letter back earlier the day before, he had felt a numbing sensation that maybe Sirius was hiding behind that whispering veil all along, and that Lupin was wrong. Sirius couldn't be gone forever. It was just. . . . impossible.

Harry finally began to lie back down, satisfied that he was in no danger. There was a reasonable explanation for that nightmare, most likely. He did learn enough about Occlumency that he should have known better than to fall asleep with any emotions. Or maybe Voldemort really _was_ trying to force entry into his thoughts and memories. In all the confusion he had felt, he didn't notice a stinging pain in his lightning-bolt scar.

Cursing profusely, he turned on his side. He wondered what all his friends were doing. He assumed it had to be somewhat more exciting than spending day after day trapped in the care of spiteful relatives. Maybe Fred and George had invented another miraculous device like the Extendable Ears. Ron and Hermione could be doing anything, even talking about him behind his back. . . .

Punctuating this thought was a dizzying feeling of anger. For a second, Harry thought he was imagining it, but then he realized he was having a strange double-vision. He knew he was still sitting in his dark room, but he was also seeing two people sleeping in the darkness of Ron's bedroom overlapping what he was meant to see. Eventually, all the sights and sounds of Harry's surroundings faded, and he felt as though he was in the Burrow quite solidly. Whispering filled his ears, sharply magnified.

"When are they're bringing Harry here, do you think?" murmured Ron.

"Probably soon. For all we know they're going to get him tomorrow," Hermione answered quietly. "He'd be glad to know that there's been no sign of V–– You-Know-Who, at all."

"Has he been nicking papers out of bins again?" Ron yawned sarcastically.

"Oh come off it, and go to sleep! What do you think Harry would say if he heard you mocking him?"

"Nothing remarkably cheerful, that's for sure," Ron remarked. "You know Harry."

"Good night."

"Yeah."

And just as soon as it had appeared, the Burrow vanished and his imprecise sight focused on his bedroom. This was no dream, he thought. Somehow, he had the power to see exactly what people he was thinking about were doing, which he was sure he had never been able to do before. There was something about the way he had overheard that conversation that made it seem as though he was forced to, but he didn't think that Voldemort could reach him in his relatives' care in any way.

There was something peculiar about all of this, and the only person who probably had the answer also had the means and aspiration to kill him.

* * *

Harry didn't mention any of what happened the night he could overhear Ron and Hermione to anyone in letters. Sirius had received his letter, evidently, and the same black owl returned with another one.

_    Thank Merlin you survived, I was beginning to worry that you might not have_

_    been alive to receive my letter. Again, we could easily be intercepted, so disclose_

_    no addresses or important names. I'll be on the lookout for you._

_      Padfoot_

Harry wondered if maybe Sirius could talk through a fireplace, as soon as he got to one. Keeping in mind Tonks' hint and Hermione's prediction, he expected that he could talk to Sirius quite soon. Before he had gotten the first letter, he had been utterly devastated. It seemed that no part of his true family was allowed to live out their lives. Rather, they were all murdered.

If only the prophecy hadn't meant that he, Harry, was the sole person with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord! He was being driven insane with all the pain and bickering and hate that seethed all around him. He could have been living a normal life, with parents and a godfather that weren't in danger, and no stupid scar, either. Those people who led normal, safe lives didn't know how lucky they were to have them.

He decided had better get packing. If another advance guard came by to take him somewhere, he thought maybe he could be at least somewhat prepared.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In the real OotP, a little mistake on Rowling's part was that Tonks died (or fell off a balcony and rolled down a few big stone stairs, same thing) and then was alive again a few chapters later... Oh and if you look closely at what Lupin starts to say about Sirius. "He can't come back, because he's d––" ... D-what? Not necessarily _dead. Hah. I have plans, mark my words._

Review or my twisted and spiteful characters will be forced to take action.


	3. A Curved Path

**~*Harry Potter and the Second War*~**

Wow, I'm shocked to have so many reviews already! I thought I was a really poor writer and completely out-of-character, to say the least... Well, I'm going forward again, and I'll crank out another chapter by midnight tomorrow... or something.

Funny Part of Book Five: "You don't want to bottle up your anger like that, Harry, let it all out. There might be a couple of people fifty miles away who didn't hear you." _Fred, Order of the Phoenix  p 68_

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Chapter 3- A Curved Path

When the group of wizards came to take him to the Burrow, Harry's trunk was neatly packed and Hedwig in her clean cage. There were a few sounds like a whip cracking, and a gathering of wizards had appeared in his cramped bedroom. Among them were the recognizable Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody, and Remus Lupin. All of them looked as though someone had dragged them there, and that they had something evidently more important to do than usher him to where he was going.

"Good evening, Harry," said Lupin, casting the _Locomotor__ spell on Harry's trunk. He looked positively grey, from his face, to his eyes, to the now massive amount of grey hair he now had. Harry knew exactly how he felt. Losing someone you knew was so vibrantly alive, like Sirius, did that to people. Before the first letter he got from his godfather a few days before, Harry was just as distraught, and sympathized with his former Professor._

  
"Hey," Harry muttered. "What did you do with the Dursleys?"

Tonks led everyone downstairs, and the trunks magically moved as well. "Tricked them out of this house again." She gave Harry a small wink. "Got that Firebolt ready, then?"

He fished the racing broom out of the closet under the stairs and noticed Lupin giving a nervous twitch. It suddenly struck Harry that the broom he was holding was a birthday present from Sirius, and felt sick inside. He didn't know if the letters were really from Sirius at all. . . . Sirius could really be dead forever. The veiled archway was something that even the Department of Mysteries had not figured out, so perhaps his godfather was trapped in it for good.

All the witches and wizards conjured their brooms into their hands and prepared to fly. Moody was growling orders at all of them, and they began to make a formation outside on the Dursley's front lawn. The streetlamps had mysteriously gone out, so it would be hard for them to be spotted. Lupin lightened Harry's trunk with a spell, and tied it and Hedwig's cage to the Firebolt's tail. After a quick Disillusionment charm, they were off the ground and soaring before they knew it.

The other witches and wizards kept enough distance from him that he had nobody to talk to. Casually, he slumped down on his broom and gazed distractedly, turning now and then with the rest of the flyers. He had a feeling that, when they thought Harry wasn't looking, everyone was sneaking looks at him. He tried to ignore the feeling of eyes watching him.

He didn't realize it, but he was falling asleep. As his mind drifted, he thought he could hear a very low muttering in the back of his mind, but he shook his head. He was somewhat sure he had heard muttering like that before, but he didn't know where. His scar began to burn, but he bit his tongue. It had been happening all summer and he couldn't do anything about it, so he'd decided to ignore the pain.

As they continued the flight, over houses and rolling hills, the pain began to grow worse. His eyes were starting to water, and he felt violently sick as well. He translated the agony to mean that the Dark Lord was definitely angry. He himself didn't feel angry, but he could just comprehend what Voldemort felt. Sometimes, the emotion got to such a degree that Harry shared them, in his opinion for no apparent reason.

The pain subsided suddenly. He felt dizzy and sick and horribly tired. For a few minutes there was a sort of ghastly silence, then words began to make sense again to his fevered mind.

"Bank left!" Moody yelled. Everyone, even Harry, complied.

Lupin broke ranks long enough to tell Harry what was going on. "There's been a change of plans. We're stopping at the headquarters."

Everyone drifted silently across the starless night sky. Several more orders were given before the one to land. Upon hitting solid ground, each witch and wizard, save Lupin, Tonks, and Moody, Disapparated on the spot with a loud cracking noise. This was punctuated by every one of the streetlights within two blocks of Grimmauld Place going out simultaneously with a few clicks of Dumbledore's Putter-Outer.

Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place sprang up before them. When it grew to normal house size, the four of them proceeded up the steps and through the front door. The gas lamps along the old walls roared to life, lighting the dismal surroundings. Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as Tonks slipped Lupin a package.

"Dumbledore should be here by morning, Lupin. He'll straighten everything out," Moody said. He and Tonks closed the door of the house before Disapparating. Lupin gazed rather sullenly at Harry.

"It seems there was an attack on the wizard community nearest to the Weasley Burrow. Dumbledore is supposed to come by tomorrow morning to get you where you're going. . . . you'll be staying in Hogwarts castle for the rest of the summer."

Harry stood bolt upright, while Lupin removed the Disillusionment Charm. "An attack? Where?"

"We're not sure, but I think we'll have all the details by the morning. You should remember the way to the bedroom. _Locomotor__ Trunk!_" Harry's trunk zoomed up the stairs. Harry himself raced after them, shouting a quick good-night over his shoulder. Lupin drifted away down one of the many hallways and disappeared.

The bedroom was the same as ever, with a high ceiling and two empty beds. The same house-elf heads had leered at him from their mounts on the staircase. Harry felt bitter despite himself.

"It's not like anyone else has to put up with this load of rubbish. There's just no break from it, is there?" Harry had become used to talking to himself aloud. Nobody around him had cared when he began doing it during early summer, and he had progressed to cursing as well, if he were in a particularly bad mood.

Eventually, he tired of grumbling to himself and fell into a very heavy sleep.

* * *

By morning, there were a few pitiful rays of summer sunlight streaming through the window. Harry woke up and got dressed, his bad mood gone just as strangely as it came.

Dumbledore was in the kitchen with Lupin. They were talking very quietly, but if Harry strained his ears while he stood in the doorway, he could hear a few words, such as "school", "Weasleys", and "Portkey".

Lupin beckoned Harry over to the table he and the Headmaster were sitting at. He sat down, somewhat confused.

"Harry, I know you are no doubt angry that you cannot be taken to, and kept safe at, the Weasleys'. However, it is important you realize that it would be your safety in jeopardy if we were to let you go to the Burrow. That is why you will be spending the remaining part of summer at the Hogwarts castle. I will give you the liberty to wander around the interior of the castle and trust that you will do your homework, but you will still have Occlumency lessons from Professor Snape, and Auror training from Professor McGonagall."

"Occlumency lessons?" groaned Harry.

"I trust Snape perfectly well, and I have my reasons, too. I will be transporting your trunk and owl cage separately, so all you need is a Portkey –" Dumbledore found a small cup on the table and tapped it with his wand. It glowed blue momentarily. "The password to the Gryffindor common room is 'eye of newt'. Just wait in the common room or dormitory for today. I have a house-elf named Dobby bringing you your meals, never fear."

Harry grasped the cup. He felt, once again, the tug and the blur of colors around him that meant he was on his way.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Kinda boring chapter, if you ask me... (even if you didn't ask me, I still think that)

I changed chapter one, people. I added O.W.L.s if you didn't see. More (interesting) chapters to come... I think... maybe...

Review! You don't want my really OOC Harry Potter blasting you with hexes, do you? No, I thought not... but he will if you don't review. *ducks a few tomatoes, spoiled fruits and veggies, and a boot*


	4. A Danger to Himself

**~*Harry Potter and the Second War*~**

Hm, bored, bored, bored. The same bored that eventually Harry _won't be by the end of this chapter, I hope. Thank you all of you reviewers! I read your reviews when I try to think of how much worse my story could get. And you know, it's getting there. Let's add some good ol' mystery to this hopeless plot._

One more thing before I let you read: THANK YOU TO THOSE 3 PEOPLE WHO HAVE MY STORY ON THEIR FAVORITES LIST AND REVIEWED AS WELL!! You're too kind, really.

Funny Part of Book Five: *I'll put one here as soon as my brother gives me back my Book 5! He's reading it... unless you can remember the cough drop part and pretend its here*

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Chapter 4- A Danger to Himself

Harry stumbled as the Portkey landed him on the stone floor outside of the Fat Lady's portrait. The cup that had transported him was once more a cup, and he hadn't even had time to say good-bye to Lupin.

Not, of course, that saying good-bye to him would have made him feel any better. 

Lupin was now alone, and the last survivior of the Marauders, if you considered Pettigrew as good as dead anyway. He probably did have a few things to take his mind off the losses of all three of his friends, talking with Dumbledore and all. Harry straightened up, never slacking his grip on the cup. He turned to the Fat Lady. "Eye of newt."

"Odd," she muttered as her portrait swung open to reveal the empty Gryffindor common room. "I thought school isn't in session for another month."

Harry found a chair near the fireplace and sat down in it. He had nothing to do but wait. After what felt like an hour of staring at the wall, he headed over to the Portrait Hole. He gave it a casual push, but it didn't move.

"What the –" Harry started to say.

"Dumbledore's orders, dear," said the Fat Lady on the other side of the portrait. "You're not to leave the common room until he comes and tells me you can. Now, if he asks where I am, I'll be visiting my friend Victoria on the fourth floor."

He tried pushing against the back of the portrait again. When even banging against it with his whole body wasn't enough to open the way out, he realized he was locked inside the common room. Growling, he turned away. He began to think quickly. _It's for my own protection, isn't it? Dumbledore thinks the only way for me to be safe is to trap me somewhere!_

He decided, after glaring at the trophy cabinets and portraits of various esteemed Gryffindors, to take a look at his dormitory. Halfway to the stairs, he heard a familiar voice from one of the walls.

"So he _is_ dead."

Harry turned around. In a frame that was meant to have Salina the Water Sorceress sitting in a pearl-encrusted shell throne stood Phineas Nigellus. His crafty Slytherin look contrasted with the peaceful and courageous faces of the rest of the paintings. The other paintings did not say anything, however, as Nigellus was once a Headmaster.

"Yes. He fell through – through a veiled archway in the Department of Mysteries." Harry could finish that whole sentence only because there was nobody else around for him to be nervous of. He was in a terrible mood, but he was still grieving, in case the letters he had received recently were not from Sirius at all.

"Let me tell you, you conceited youth, that Sirius Orion Black was the last of one of the noblest lineages of pureblooded wizards and witches. And though Albus Dumbledore claims responsibility for the death of my great-great-grandson, I find the blame to be on you_._"

"Look, Phineas, I really –"

"You may want to look after yourself. I assume that keeping yourself locked in a room is some form of protection. . . . but is it for your safety, or everyone else's?" Before Harry could make a decent comeback, the sinister old Headmaster had disappeared. He had raised a good question, however. Who _was Dumbledore trying to protect?_

As if meant to tempt him, the Portrait Hole opened. Harry strongly suspected Phineas Nigellus of opening it, but didn't touch it. Instead, he stood near it and listened for footsteps. He could hear at least one person rapidly approaching the common room.

"I know that this is completely pointless," said Snape in a very angry tone of voice. "It's as though he wants to keep suffering. If he meant to learn Occlumency properly, he would have actually listened to me last year. I don't feel like bothering with him. He's a danger to himself and anyone he decides to associate with."

Harry could hear another voice too soft to understand. It just enraged Snape more, apparently. "Now you ask me to check where he is? I refuse to be the babysitter of an insolent, arrogant child like Potter! If he decided not to follow your orders, then consider him dead!"

Harry took a sharp intake in breath and began to back away from the Portrait Hole. The argument Snape was having with an unseen Dumbledore was starting to touch a nerve in the Potions teacher. "This is not a grudge against James Potter! You know perfectly well why I switched sides before, well, before the Dark Lord tried to kill his only known competition."

Harry jumped into the nearest chair and put on a look of intense boredom. His heart was in his throat now. Was Snape joking about Harry being "competition"? The thought had been much more reasonable four years ago, when he first discovered his ability to speak Parseltongue, snake language. He tried to calm down as much as possible, because he knew Snape would probably come in on Dumbledore's orders.

"Potter!" Snape barked from near the Portrait Hole. "Come here!"

Harry jumped up and walked back to where Snape was waiting impatiently out in the seventh floor corridor. He had carefully made sure that his face was devoid of expression and his tone flat before getting anywhere near his irked teacher. "What?"

"I just want to remind you. Occlumency lessons tomorrow. 7 o'clock sharp in my office." As he turned away, the greasy-haired Professor gave Harry another look. "You'll be free to roam the castle tomorrow, if you're wondering how to get there."

Harry nodded blankly, trying not to breathe too fast in front of his teacher. Snape was extremely unpleasant to Harry all the time, especially when he was high-strung or suspicious. As soon as the Portrait Hole shut and locked again, Harry was alone with his even more furious thoughts.

_Who _was_ being protected by Harry's quarantine... himself, or everyone else?_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There are officially more italics in this chapter than any of the others... isn't that weird? 

I just realized that I always rate my stories PG-13.... hm. Maybe it's cause I keep thinking there's gonna be something PG-13 in it, but then there isn't... should I put real swearing in?

IDEA ALERT! See below...

Review Poll of the chapter (this means that it would be interactive to a certain degree if you review): Should **The Amazing Snorkack add real swear words in her story, or just forget it? Review and we will see what happens! (I want at least 10 _signed_ poll ballots before I make a decision)**


	5. Friendly Return

**~*Harry Potter and the Second War*~**

So sorry about not updating this right away... But this OUGHT to be intense, interesting, and all that other stuff you look for in a fic. *Eyes pan over to reviews* Fi-fi-fifty s-seven reviews!?!?! Whoa! Thanks, people! And to every single person who said "Tonks isn't dead" in their review, I am just so happy to announce that I knew that already. _Count on my lack of focus to ramble at the end of a chapter..._

And the votes are in... **The Amazing Snorkack **will _not use profanity other than the word "hell" and variations of the word "damn" (not __damn itself), meaning DANG, DANGIT, DARN, and that whole thing. We're gonna keep it relatively JK Rowling-style, everybody. Sorry to the people who voted for swearing Thanks for your cooperation._

Funny Part of Book Five: "Who d'you know who's lost a buttock?" –– _Tonks__, Order of the Phoenix p 48_

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Chapter 5- Friendly Return

By the next afternoon, Harry was in an absolutely fierce humor. He was allowed to explore the castle now, deserted as it was, but he saw the portraits staring at him as he passed. He suspected that Dumbledore was having them watch over him. He got so fed up that he stumbled into the Room of Requirement without realizing it.

He was expecting it to be lined with bookshelves full of DADA books, like it always was during meetings of the D.A., but it was curiously different. Apparently his mind had been on escaping the portraits, so there was not a frame in sight. An ornate fireplace stood opposite him, the fire lit and a pot of Floo powder on the mantle. A few books on Occlumency were stacked on a table, which was surrounded by three comfortable chairs. The room was lit by torches in brackets, giving everything in it an odd, wavering look.

"Er," he said, looking around. Why in the world would he need Floo powder? He wasn't stupid enough to sneak out under Dumbledore's nose.

He sat down in one of the chairs, and picked up an old-looking book entitled _Practical Occlumency_. He was flipping through it, hoping to find something that might make Snape more bearable, when the fireplace roared with green flame.

To Harry's shock, it was Ron that stumbled out of the fireplace. He had some ash on his face, but he looked otherwise normal. Hermione came out after. By then, Harry had dropped the book on the table and had stood up.

"How did you get here?" Harry asked, stunned.

"Well, er –" Ron started to say. Hermione jumped over and gave Harry a very stifling hug around his neck.

"Harry, are you okay? We heard that they made you come here instead of the Burrow, but nobody told us why!" She had finally let go of Harry, who was very grateful of that.

"There was an attack on a wizard community near the Burrow, or something."

"There was?" Ron looked confused.

"Dumbledore and Professor Lupin were being really vague," Harry added. "I bet I wasn't supposed to come at all. They were probably just raising our hopes. So how did both of you get into the Room of Requirement?"

"This is the Room of Requirement? Blimey, it's different."

"I liked it better with all of those bookshelves," sighed Hermione, peering at the books on the table. "I suppose you wanted to study and see us at the same time?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, I guess I had a lot on my mind. . . ."

"Of course you would!" Hermione cut him off before he could add to what he was saying. "Maybe the Room rerouted us from the Gryffindor common room. That's where we were supposed to go."

"We're going to have to be careful if we want to go anywhere in the castle. All those paintings are watching me. It's so creepy," Harry said.

"But your Invisibility Cloak is right here!" Ron revealed a shimmering silver cloak that was most certainly not there when Harry had entered the room. "At least, I think it's yours."

"There's more of them," Harry commented, noticing two more that had appeared as the need had arisen. He tossed one to Hermione and took the other one for himself. "Just wondering, but how did you find the chance to come here?"

"Mum and Dad are at a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, and they left us at home. We don't think they'll be back till at least nine o'clock."

"But I have Occlumency lessons at seven," Harry muttered. "My watch is waterlogged and it's been broken since the Second Task. Anyone have the time?"

"Six fifteen. Why not buy another watch?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, buy a watch when you're at the top of the hit list of an evil maniac, and being escorted from place to place by a bunch of loonies. It sounds easy enough," retorted Harry.

"I didn't mean it that –"

"Sorry, I've just been so bored for the past four weeks of my life that it's hard to imagine I'm really speaking to both of you."

Hermione and Ron threw on the cloaks. Harry did too, but neither of them noticed him slip _Practical Occlumency _under the cloak as well.

They opened the door. All the portraits were staring at the doorway, unaware that three people had just sneaked out of it. They found an area of the hallway where all the pictures were gone from their frames and decided it was safe to whisper.

"Let's go to the library, Harry. You could probably find a book on Occlumency. Maybe you should study for your N.E.W.T. preparatory classes."

"No, I think we should explore that place where they hid the Philosopher's Stone back in first year," offered Ron. "Wonder if Fluffy is still there?"

"How about the Chamber of Secrets?" Harry volunteered. "There's always been something suspicious about it. I don't think the part I've been in is the real Chamber of Secrets."

"How could the part you were in _not be the Chamber of Secrets?" Ron guffawed. "Even Riddle from the diary said it was the real Chamber, didn't he?"_

"Yeah, but. . . ."

"Harry, there's something you aren't telling us," Hermione said pointedly.

"All right. Last night, I had one of those dreams, the kind that Occlumency is supposed to prevent. It was like the Department of Mysteries dreams, except. . . . I just can't explain. I'm probably not even supposed to understand it."

"It could be a trap, like last time. It wasn't your fault, of course, but you're easily lured to help other people." Hermione sounded very resolute.

There was a long stretch of silence. Since nobody could see each other in the Invisibility Cloaks, they all waited for someone else to start speaking.

"What time is it?" Harry asked again.

"Seven."

"Oh, _no!" Harry moaned quietly. "Can you guys get back to the Room of Requirement without me?"_

"Yeah, I think so. So we'll try to write to you. Bye!"

Harry was already dashing toward the stairs. He knew that Snape was not going to be happy. In fact, Snape was going to be very, very pissed. As he sprinted down the seven flights of steps, his Invisibility Cloak caught on his shoe and he went sprawling, half-visible, on the stone floor. The book he had been casually holding skidded across the floor, until someone Harry couldn't look up to see stopped it with their foot. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach about who it was.

"Late, Potter," Snape hissed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

And now, I will continue where I left off at the top of the page. Yes, I will change the O.W.L.s and stuff (well apparently some people read the book a _little _too_ closely, no offense or anything). Go ahead and tell me whats wrong with the story. That's the beauty of it. I can get so much wrong its funny. Just be glad I caught my mistake and added O.W.L.s at all!_

Oh yeah, now I remember what I was going to say! Sorry I'm being infrequent with my updates. I _do _have a social life, so I'll tend to not be home to finish a chapter (these things take a couple hours to write!). I'll try my best, though.

I was gone for just one night, and my reviews skyrocketed from 21 to 58! This is a world record for me! Well, I've never written before on Fanfiction, so technically it is... you know... heh heh... oh never mind.

*takes the black quill and a piece of parchment* _I... will... write... halfway... decent... and... interesting... chapters... OW OW OW!_


	6. The Grim Truth

**~*Harry Potter and the Second War*~**

I bet that having so much dialogue is killing you. Well, it kills me, but I SWEAR IT'S GONNA GET MORE INTERESTING, REALLY! And probably longer. I don't know. And thank you for telling me that Outstanding is _better _than Exceeds Expectations, I had it all backwards, apparently. So sorry. (Why oh why did I include O.W.L.s in this story?? Grades are confusing and I hate them and you're only reading this cause I'm typing it...) 

Hey would you look at that! Where does it say you can't Floo into Hogwarts?? ***Sirius's** head pops into the fireplace*

**Sirius**: Well I never knew that!! How else could my head appear in the Gryffindor Common roo- *head disappears because of **childrentheemuisnotatoy thinks that 1) you can't Floo into Hogwarts 2) Sirius is dead***

You sure spoil all the fun. I have my, er, _reasons_ for some of the stuff I write. Well next time you point out my mistakes then be a bit... NICER... about it. Ever heard of it? Nah, I didn't think so. Eh, I'm just in a bad mood... no hard feelings.

Well, after a plausibly long wait, may I introduce... CHAPTER 6!! *crickets chirping goes silent*

Funny Part of Book Five: "Give her hell from us, Peeves." –– _Fred, Order of the Phoenix p 675_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 6- The Grim Truth

Harry stood in Snape's office, trying not to look up at the Potions teacher. He had a feeling in gut that this would not end well. Snape was examining the book that Harry had dropped. He had a look on his face that was partly disbelief, and partly annoyance. 

"Needless to say, I am surprised you were studying before you came here." He dropped the book on his desk. "Now that you have finally come to your senses and decided you're going to work with me, I might put certain. . . . events behind us."

_Oh, like your grudge against my dad? I wish_, Harry thought sarcastically to himself. All the while he stared at his shoes, as though there were something very interesting about them.

"Now look up at me, and take out your wand. Remember, force me away with your _mind, _and you will not need magic. Clear your mind of emotion, and we will begin. . . . _Legilimens__!_"__

The office disappeared, was replaced by flashes of memory. He tried to stop it, thought hard against the reminiscence of Dudley's gang beating him up. All the kids had circled in to watch, laughing, and his nose was bleeding all over. However, he felt as though he were in control. _No, get out of my mind. GET OUT –_

Snape's office came into sharp focus. Snape looked startled, but quickly hid it. Harry barely knew what happened, because he still felt slightly disoriented. He hadn't managed to force Snape out of his mind before.

"Impressive, Potter. I was expecting you to go at me with a spell, like you did before," Snape said. "Now keep your mind emotionless. . . . See if you can block this. _Legilimens__!_"

This time Snape was apparently trying hard. Instead of bringing the normal painful memories to mind, he was delving deeper. He saw Tom Riddle laughing over him, when he had almost died in the Chamber of Secrets. . . . A hundred dementors looked up at him from the Quidditch field and sparking the same horrible feeling of unhappiness he now felt. . . . Sirius falling through the veiled arch that was meant to seal his fate. . . . Sirius's letter on his birthday –

Before he knew it, he had again forced Snape from his memories. It wasn't as easy that time. When he raised his head, Snape was looking curiously at him.

"You don't have that letter by any chance, do you? I daresay that the Headmaster would like a look at it."

"What letter?" Harry replied nervously.

"Stop playing games! This is a very grave matter," Snape hissed.

"But I'm being serious, I don't know what you're talking about." He gritted his teeth nervously. Snape wasn't supposed to know about the letter, nobody was. If that was really Sirius, but the Order didn't have enough proof, then he might not ever hear from his godfather again.

Snape turned on his heels, brandishing his wand. "_Legilimens__!"_

"Proteg – auggh!" Harry reeled back as Snape caught him unsuspecting with the spell. Instead of random memories, he began to see Sirius's first letter come into sharper focus, as though he were looking at it in a Pensieve. Struggling mentally, Harry tried to change the memory he saw, if not stop Snape altogether. The memory began to fade, replaced by one of Umbridge's detention. Then he began to fight Snape off.

He was looking up at the office's ceiling. He must have fallen down to prevent Snape from entering too far into his memories. While he lay there, eyes shut tight, he heard the Potions Master's feet step along the stone floor. Then there was a brilliant glow of silver through his eyelids. Snape had taken out his Pensieve.

When Harry gathered up the courage to open his eyes again, he saw Snape leaning over the bowl of silvery thoughts. The light obscured his face, and his eyes looked glassy. Harry suspected that was what _he had looked like when he had tumbled into a Pensieve memory. He could do nothing but look on, his insides writhing, as the Professor finished examining a memory._

"Potter, you are coming with me, _right now," Snape snapped at him. Harry obligingly followed him out of the dungeons and around the castle. He never looked away from the floor._

When they ended up at the two stone gargoyles, Snape recited the password acidly. "Ice Mice."

The gargoyles leapt aside, while the wall behind them cracked open. Snape grabbed Harry by the shoulder and pushed him onto the moving spiral staircase before he stepped on. Harry felt very nervous and stressed by all of this. It was just a letter, after all. What harm was there in it?

They reached the door. Snape slammed the griffin knocker three times into the wooden door before it opened of its own accord. Snape strolled into the Headmaster's office, while Harry shuffled weakly behind him, afraid of whatever was going to happen next.

"Severus?" Dumbledore said from across the room. "I thought you were giving Harry Occlumency lessons."

"True, I was, until I hit upon a certain memory of Potter's. It appears that he has been receiving letters from Sirius Black. The _late Sirius Black." Snape seemed to find it particularly entertaining to emphasize on Sirius's death._

"He's not dead!" shouted Harry. He looked up, glaring and affronted. "How do you know what's behind that veil? How do you know he isn't just behind it?"

"That veil flutters over an ancient archway that is the only known portal into death." Dumbledore's words rang through the unbearable silence in the office.

"So. . . . he's dead forever? I can't even talk to him?"

"And good riddance," Snape muttered.

"There is a way you could speak to him," Dumbledore began, "but I'm afraid it's just too dangerous. You are needed here, in the living world, not in death."

The weight of it all finally came down on Harry. Sirius would never be alive again. Just like his parents. They could not come back. He felt his eyes water, but blinked it back.

"This isn't fair," Harry snarled. "Why do I have to go through all of these deaths? Why do they always have to be someone that I've just started to know well, and then they're gone? I suppose Ron and Hermione are next to die!"

"It is a risk that comes with your future, your destiny."

"What if I told you that I'd rather have my parents back and never get this stupid scar, and that it could be Neville who faces off the Dark Lord instead of me?"

"Then I would tell you that what you were saying was very foolish," Dumbledore replied calmly. "You have abilities that Neville could never have. You have been very brave for living without your parents for fifteen years, I admit. Harry, you are the only person who can defeat Lord Voldemort. . . ."

"That doesn't comfort me much," said Harry.

"Well, while we are back on the subject of the Dark Lord, will you please go down to your dormitory and fetch those letters?"

"Fine," Harry resolved. The second that Dumbledore's office door shut behind him, tears began to streak down his cheeks. He tried to keep his emotions from rising to the top of himself, but sometimes, crying made it feel better. He just drifted down the corridors, silently, while his eyes got puffy and red and wet, stopping at the Fat Lady to give the password.

A black owl was tapping a window with its sharp beak, another letter from "Sirius" on its leg. Harry reached out to open the window, grabbed the letter, and unraveled it. 

Instantly, his scar began to burn. He dropped the letter. There was a jet black Dark Mark printed on it, and underneath it the words "_The Dark Lord will get you soon_", written in blood.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Can I just say here and now two things I think will happen in the real books? Of course I can! Muahaha... ahem. So first one is that Peter and Lupin (as a werewolf) are so obviously going to die in a death struggle. Lupins gonna open bleeding holes in Peter, and Peter's gonna be burning away the skin on Lupin's neck while he strangles him. What a way to end the Marauders... Second, PERCY IS EVIL. How can that little rodent not go over to _the dark side_?? Just a few thoughts, no need to bash them though, cause Rowling's not that predictable (no, wait, she _IS_! HA HA wow do I feel tired.)

This chapter is awesome. I think it's the best one yet. Booyah! Except that I have established the yeah-he's-pretty-dang-dead-to-me thing. BUT I KNOW HOW TO TALK TO HIM/ANYONE EVEN IF THEYRE DEAD!! IT'S A SECRET FOR THE FIC!

If you're such a big fan of my writing that you're dying to speak to me (hopefully not in the literal sense about the dying) then I have unmasked my secret email address on my lookup! I might not be on IM a lot, but I do respond to email so there you go.


	7. Truly Scarred

**~*Harry Potter and the Second War*~**

Ok that was actually a very different cliffhanger... don't have any idea what it means (just kidding, I'm talking about _you), but cool anyway. So that thing Dumbledore said about talking to Sirius... intriguing. Mark my words, Rowling and other unbelievers, WE HAVE NOT SEEN THE END OF SIRIUS!! Don't worry Sirius fans hes not gone forever! Unfortunately he's not making an appearance this chapter in particular. Why would he be? School's almost in session! (well actually a bit more on the evil letter first)_

The Chamber of Secrets dream thingy from a few chapters ago? It's a theory. A big really impossible to explain theory... in connection (unfortunately, people) with the Green Flame Torch stuff (oh come on you cant have sixth year without those rumors.... unless HARRY is the torch and if he stares at someone they spontaneously combust... now _that's _an idea) . But its so coooooooooool! You'll get it when I write it and I don't want to spoil my own story... just Rowling's.

Ah... you are wondering why The Amazing Snorkack failed to update for like 3 or 4 days? I went on a camping trip with my day camp! I slept in a TENT! And I hiked 3 miles! Oh god! Well anyway, here is the chapter... really effed-up title, hope you, er, like it... can anyone tell I wrote the first half _before _the camping trip and the other half after? I can...

Is it just me or is it that theres no farting in real books? Or going to the bathroom? How long can book characters hold it in, man?? Or perhaps Hogwarts lacks bathrooms. The poor hygiene, I mean no deodorant, no showers, no sinks, no napkins, towels, toilets, toilet paper, THEY LIVE IN UHEALTHY CONDITIONS!

Funny Part of Book Five: *unfortunately it has come to a halt.... we'll just have to wait till the author can get her book back from her brother... rrrrrrgh*

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 7- Truly Scarred

Harry couldn't think. He knew that the letter he had just received was from Voldemort, or one of his followers. But Sirius. . . . Sirius had to be alive, he couldn't be dead. He was still so full of life and vitality in every memory, even when he had escaped Azkaban. Harry slumped to his knees and looked at the letter. The Dark Mark was fading fast into a pale red stamp on the page.

He felt sick with dread. What was Dumbledore going to say when he saw that letter? Sighing, Harry reached and tried touching the piece of paper. His scar stabbed with pain and he relinquished. Finally, he left the threat on the floor and headed up the stairs to where he had hidden the two letters previously, with the shattered mirror and melted knife, in a secret pocket in his trunk. He pulled them out and headed back to where the headmaster's office was.

Before he knocked with the majestic griffin knocker, he leaned against the door and listened. Through the thick burnished wood, he could hear Snape talking.

"Why am I bothered to give him Occlumency lessons? If you want to know what he's thinking then why don't you ask him yourself?"

"There is a matter of privacy involved. Voldemort is trying to use Harry by striking him where he knows the boy is most vulnerable, his loyalty to his friends," Dumbledore responded. "Sometimes, a man will not share everything he knows, and in times like these, we must know everything."

"The Dark Lord has successfully _killed two of Potter's friends. We can only pray for Weasley, and especially Granger, they're sure to be next," Snape said. "It's true that now of all times it is especially useful to. . . . doubt people's trustworthiness. Potter could be hiding more than just these letters."_

"I think that he knows well enough that if there's anything he's hiding from me, he will tell."

Harry reached up and knocked with the big griffin knocker. The doors opened. Harry walked in, scratching away at his reddened eyes. He put the letters on Dumbledore's desk and stood there, silently, while the Headmaster surveyed them. Snape didn't bother looking over Dumbledore's shoulder. Instead, he gazed about the room, as though he had never been in it before.

"Harry, these are not from Sirius."

"I guessed that," Harry said under his breath.

"Voldemort is trying to use you by playing on your emotions and personality. Most likely he believed he could get to you through Sirius, even though he is dead."

"So. . . . he's in my mind right now?"

"Not necessarily, Potter. He is having a hard time penetrating your mind for whatever reason, and he is trying to use outside forces to break into it. No doubt he was going to ask you for the prophecy. If he gets hold of that information, chances are very high that the entire wizard world will descend into chaos, and I for one do not wish for that to happen."

"Thank you, Severus." Dumbledore turned away from the Potions Master. "Harry, you can trust the Order with anything suspicious that is going on. If you do not wish to tell it to me personally, then you can contact Lupin or Tonks, or anyone else you feel more inclined to talk to, securely, with this."

The Headmaster held out a strange silver instrument that looked like an assortment of odd connecting metal twisted into a recognizable circle. Harry took it and looked at it, confused.

"Ah. . . . how does it work?"

"It will work on its own, if it is needed."

_And I suppose there's no confidentiality involved_, Harry thought dully, but aloud he said, "Er, thanks."

As soon as he made it to the common room, he sat down in a chair and examined the odd, plate-sized ring, poking it, shaking it, and trying whatever else to make it work. Nothing happened at all. Slightly dejected, Harry carried it up to the dormitory and stuck it in his trunk.

* * *

Harry was waiting at the carriages for Hermione, Ron, and Ginny on September 1st. At least a month had passed since the incident with the letters, and he had put it out of mind for his own sanity.

The second-through-seventh years flooded toward the thestral-drawn carriages, talking, laughing, and giving themselves the illusion of all being united. However much everyone tried to blend in with each other, they couldn't disguise a certain Harry gazed at the little second years, unable to imagine that he was once that short.

Someone elbowed Harry very hard in the arm. He looked up with confusion, which was quickly replaced with anger.

"Well, well, if it isn't the amazing Potter!" Malfoy drawled. He was flanked by five or six Slytherins, all of whom looked very dangerous and stupid. 

Harry rubbed his upper arm, deciding not to give Malfoy anything to laugh about. He gave the Slytherin Prefect a very stony, serious look. "Listen, Malfoy, you're going about it all wrong. If you want popularity, why not give yourself a scar? Come on, right on the forehead. It'll hurt –"

Time seemed to slow down as Harry drew his wand and made several pronounced slashes in the air with it. A glowing lightning bolt faded into realistic pale scar tissue across Malfoy's already-pale forehead. Malfoy clapped a hand to it, his face screwed up in an effort not to show pain.

"But not as much as it'll hurt your pompous ego."

"Potter, I will personally _skin you alive for this!"_

"Harry, don't get into a fight!" Ginny whispered from behind his left shoulder. "Did you notice that people are staring?"

"No, no I didn't." Quietly, Harry ducked into the nearest empty carriage.

"Hermione and Ron had some important assignment from McGonagall. . . . if you're wondering where they are."

"I was."

"They wanted me to tell you they said 'hi' and Ron thought it was pretty dumb of them to keep you in the castle for a month on your own."

"Uh-huh." Harry stared out the window of the carriage. Despite only having two people inside, the door closed and it left. The scenery flit by in odd, colorful streaks.

They sat in silence for a while. The carriage rocked and swayed to the pattern of bumps in the road it traveled. Harry noticed he was becoming spaced out and shook his head to stop from spacing out.

"You don't think I'm a baby or anything, do you?" Ginny asked.

"What? No."

"I was just wondering, because. . . . I don't want to sound ten-years-old, but I still do like you. I hope that going out with Michael didn't offend you or anything. . . . but I like you for who you are, not what you did."

"Um. . . ." Harry felt positively cornered by this statement. He was less than thrilled with relationships now, and unfortunately Ginny seemed very into them. There was no right answer, he assumed fearfully. "Sure, then."

"Do you have something on your mind?"

"Yeah. . . . don't even bother asking though, it's impossible to explain."

The carriage rattled to a halt in front of the steps leading up to Hogwarts. Gratefully, Harry jumped out and tried to mix with the crowd, because, frankly, Ginny was just being creepy and she'd probably get over it in a few days or something. Harry needed moral support, he couldn't give it yet.

"Hello," said a very airy voice near him. He turned around sharply. Luna Lovegood, with her wide, glassy eyes, smiled back at him.

"Oh, hi, Luna." Everyone was starting to go through the doors of the Great Hall.

"We caught one!" she grinned.

"One what?"

"A snorkack! A real crumple-horned snorkack! I'll show you tomorrow morning, it's a Sunday. Meet me outside the library at ten. Bye," she waved, drifting away to the Ravenclaw table. Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table rather lonesomely, and ten minutes later Dumbledore stood to make a speech.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

This... chapter... is... HORRIBLE BEYOND WORDS!! OH GOD IT MAKES NO SENSE IT'S AWFUL IT'S KILLING BRAIN CELLS!! IT'S IT'S OHHHHHHHHHH IM SOOOOOO SORRY PEOPLE!!

Camping whacked out my brain... whooo.... I can't write well!! NOOOOOO!! But on the plus side, I got 102 reviews since last time I checked (uh 10 minutes ago) and I am making a large assumption that for a story that's only been alive for 2 weeks that's pretty good? Apparently theres some really good author who gets 2,000 reviews... ah... ruskbite.... and I think I'll over-set my goal for reviews. Come on people, tell a friend, tell _all your friends! Lets set my aim for... 500 reviews by the end of the story, hm? Just kidding! If you like, then you review, and frankly if you like then I write more. It's a cycle._

There's a new slang at my camp... if you've got "permanent" PMS, then you have Harry Potter Attitude! Haha! Ok not funny, but still... eegh im gonna be talking about camp all the rest of the chapters huh? Lol, it does take up my weekdays for the next seven weeks. 

Anything better to inform the viewers of? Oh right! I drew more pics on the overnight so I'll upload them onto my site really soon. Just be on the lookout for more pics, and remember, theres this cool form on my fanart page so you can talk to me without going to your email! It's REVOLUTIONARY!

Well, uh, it is.. why are you still reading this?


	8. State of Delusion

**~*Harry Potter and the Second War*~**

That was easily a horrible chapter. As it turns out, that was one-sided H/G (the side is from Ginny liking Harry) and if I can force it to happen we might see some other one-sided shipping... but I feel in favor of keeping Harry angstily single (or with Luna, cause apparently JK said he'd like someone that _isn't _Ginny or Hermione, but I don't want to force them into it in one chapter... love at first sight is a hard concept for me), while Hermione and Ron are happily coupled. Adds to the tragedy.

To all the nice people who have reviewed the story, thank you. I dunno if I said that before, but hell, I'm gonna say it again then. You're all so nice!! Um... that was sort of my point...

And on a no doubt different note, The Amazing Snorkack's social life has been taking up a complicating lot of time. I have to go to at least three things after camp per week, so I can't update quite as often... appalling, but true. Even this chapter's late, cause dangit, I had to go from camping trip to 4th of July to social events and that was 5 days! So in that honor I will present chapter 8, with more... um... stuff than you can shake a stick at. Even if you do have a stick and you are bored enough to shake it at the chapter.

Funny Part of Book Five: *unfortunately it has come to a halt.... we'll just have to wait till the author can get her book back from her brother... rrrrrrgh*

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 8- State of Delusion

"Welcome, everyone, to another year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Before the Sorting begins, and we eat this bountiful feast, I have several very serious announcements that cannot wait until later.

"Most of you now know that, indeed, there is a threat to our school and way of life. The Dark Lord that threatened your parents and grandparents fifteen years ago has returned to power, and in this time of crisis, we have appointed a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Snape has generously decided to take on this post instead of Potions, and this year we will have a new Potions Master, Leona Fletcher."

The student body clapped warmly. Harry stared, horrified, at the staff table. Indeed, Snape was sitting at the DADA seat, looking smug. The new Potions teacher, Professor Fletcher, was quietly bowing her head, shielding her face from view by the lighting of the candles. She seemed nice enough, but Harry was worried more about Snape being his new educator.

The first years had already come into the room, looking wet and fearful. They eyed the four House tables warily, some even staring at their shoes the whole time they stood. McGonagall brought out a stool, and placed the familiar Sorting Hat on it. It twitched, then a rip at the brim opened wide and began to sing its latest Sorting song.__

"Harry!" whispered Ron.

Harry turned away from the Sorting Hat to face Ron. He was taller, definitely, but had the same look of hand-me-down he always had.

"Hey, Ron, where were you?" he asked quietly.

"I'm not allowed to say, but I'll try and tell you whatever I can. It's some Prefect thing, only us eight and the staff know about it, so you're not out of the light." Ron looked over his shoulder. "Why is Snape sitting in the DADA seat?"

"That's a wonderful question, but I think the answer is right in front of your nose," Harry scowled, angry that his best friends were again hiding things from him.

"Look, Harry, you don't have to be so mean about this. . . . It doesn't involve you at all, ok? You can stop being so bloody paranoid every time you're not part of a secret."

"I'm not paranoid," Harry said between gritted teeth, "I'm just trying to keep myself alive until whenever it is I have to face off Voldemort for the last time!"

"What?"

"It's the sole purpose of my life, apparently, and until June nobody thought of explaining it to me. The only positive thing I can think of, regarding it, is how useful I feel now."

Ron could find nothing to say about this. He started to move his mouth in reply, but thought better of it. Harry looked away from his slight expression of pity to watch the last first-year be Sorted into Ravenclaw, disgusted with himself that he had shared anything with Ron.

Within minutes, food appeared on all the shining golden plates down every table, and talking rose to a roar in the arched room. Harry didn't touch any of it, feeling rather shaken for no reason. He looked around instead to find Hermione deep in conversation with Ron, who she was sitting across from. Once or twice he could have sworn she was looking in his direction, but by the time he figured it out she had looked away again.

"Welcome, Gryffindor first-years," Nearly Headless Nick said. He floated up through the table in front of Harry, his head wobbling on his pearly white shoulders. Harry started. Several people looked over at the Gryffindor ghost, a few applauding quietly. Nick wandered right through the thick of the table, away from the bulk of the sixth-years.

It got increasingly boring, not having anyone to talk to. He twirled his fork between his fingers idly. His mind began to wander. By the time he snapped out of his daze, the feast was practically over. Dumbledore was finishing an announcement or two about where the students could not go.

"As I have said many times before, the Forbidden Forest is, indeed, off-limits to everyone, and anyone caught there will be punished severely. For this year only, the girls' bathroom occupied by the ghost of Moaning Myrtle is to be inaccessible. Anyone found inside it will also be severely punished. Argus Filch, the caretaker, will make sure that nobody tries to get in."

There was quiet muttering amongst the students. Harry glanced around. Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was. There was something suspicious about it being kept hidden from the students. Or maybe Ron was right, he _was _being paranoid. . . .

Everyone had been excused, and they filed out of the Great Hall, still talking in low voices. The Prefects called their House's first-years to them, and everyone split up. The Slytherins and Gryffindors collided for a brief moment in the entrance hall, but the Slytherin group made it to the dungeons, where Harry knew their dormitories were.

At the portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione began to fidget and glare at Ron. "You know the password, right?"

"Er, no, I thought you did."

"Well this is no good! I suppose I'd better get Professor McGonagall and –"

"It's 'eye of newt'," Harry stated loudly. Everyone stared at him, and he silently wished that he hadn't been the one to speak out.

The Fat Lady nodded and her painting swung open to reveal the Portrait Hole. Everyone clambered in, taking all of the chairs, couches, and tables by storm. Harry followed, but managed to push past the sea of happy students to the dormitory stairs. Halfway to the boys' dormitory, he was stopped by Hermione grabbing his wrist forcefully.

"Ron told me you sounded a bit lonesome, and I think you should come and talk with us. Maybe we can help." She peered at him. "You don't look too well."

"I doubt I ever do," Harry sighed.

"What?"

"No I – I think I really need some sleep."

"Well, if there's anything on your mind, you can tell me."

"Sure, g'night."

Hermione loosened her grip and went back down the stairs. Harry proceeded into the dormitory, where he found his familiar bed and trunk waiting for him, as well as everyone else's stuff. He fumbled around for his pajamas, then changed into them in the dark. Putting his glasses carefully on his bedside table, he threw himself onto his bed, got under the covers, and stared up at the canopy for a while. When the other sixth-year boys entered the room, he shut his eyes and pretended to be asleep.

"So, how was your summer?" Ron asked. He sounded tired.

"Ah, it was pretty boring. My parents found out about You-Know-Who being loose and all, and they got a bit crazy over it," Dean Thomas answered. "What about you, Seamus?"

"Same old, same old. Me mum was still a bit shocked about You-Know-Who returning, 'specially since she was all for believing he was gone for good. I'm sorry I asked Harry about what happened that night. . . . it must have been hard to deal with."

"I don't know how he survives day after day. I would have expected someone with that much trauma to start cutting themselves," Dean speculated.

"I probably don't know what I'm talking about," Neville interrupted, "but I think he's too strong for that. He's lost his parents, people he know have been hurt in front of him. . . . he's not in Gryffindor for nothing. He wouldn't resort to that kind of thing."

"Wow," was all Ron could say.

_Too right I wouldn't_, Harry thought to himself, rubbing his wrists. He continued listening as the conversation changed from him to Quidditch, to racing brooms, and finally, Harry was so out of it that he fell asleep.

He began to have a very strange dream. Luna Lovegood was holding out a box with what he supposed was a Crumple-Horned Snorkack inside. She opened the box, but instead of some kind of animal, there was a black veil. He heard shrieks, wails, and whispering.

The box grew into the enormous arch in the Department of Mysteries. The background was muted grey stone. He saw someone jump through the veil, a rope of some kind trailing at their feet, tied to the arch's ancient side, but they did not come out the other side. He couldn't identify the person, but it was not an adult.

Then the Ministry scenery faded, replaced by a familiar man with watery eyes, balding blonde hair, and a silver hand. He looked apprehensively at where Harry felt he was.

"You think he will do it?" Wormtail asked.

"If he is not sent to retrieve the artifact, then sooner or later he will, yes," Voldemort said in his cold voice. "It is only a matter of time before my last enemies fall, and I will have no one to stand up to me."

"It is a very interesting plan. . . . But, after you get rid of the boy, how will we dispose of Lu– the werewolf?"

"It's very simple. You will. I did not give you a silver hand for no reason." Voldemort paused to hold up Pettigrew's silvery right hand, looking like a liquid glove in the pale light. "The best way to kill a werewolf is to burn him with silver after his transformation to wolf. I thought you paid attention in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"I did, but you see, well, back in school, he was my best friend. . . . I don't want to sound unfaithful to you, but –"

"I did not ask if you knew him. You will kill him, or I will kill you. And for your insolence, _Crucio__!"_

Wormtail began to scream and writhe with pain. Harry felt his scar go from searing to exploding with pain in seconds. His screams of pain mingled with Peter's, until he found himself, gasping and sweating, looking up at the canopy of his bed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

This chapter wasn't bad, I must admit. My writing style is going through metamorphosis and is at the giant cocoon stage... makes you wonder what's coming next... involving the Chamber of Secrets... the _real Chamber of Secrets- oh wait you didn't hear that! La la la I didn't say anything revealing la la la!_

Hey that reminds me, I accidentally blurted out where the cover of Book 5 is, right in front of my friend who's only halfway through the book... she's mad at me... oops.

So anyway, I decided to fill this chapter with a load of crap, like a _*hint hint*_ meaningful dream, offensive conversation, and of course, our favorite DADA appointee... I know you all just love who I thought should be DADA teacher. I don't like him either, but it works and that's all I care about. This is all going to interweave by the climax, I can assure you, and by then, well, uh... I don't know.


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